Two Lady Knights: Kel and Lyrin
by PsychoLioness
Summary: Ever wondered why Lord Wyldon hates Lady Knights? Well, here's my idea. Please read and review, I don't think it's as lame as it sounds.


Ever wondered why Lord Wyldon hated female warriors so much? Well, here's his story.

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters, only Lyrin, and the messenger guy without a name. SO, don't sue!

 Prologue

Lady Knight Lyrin of Cavall twisted out of the way of her opponent's sword. At twenty three, she was the only Lady Knight in the Copper Isles which was where she lived. When she was ten, she had wanted to become a knight, but it wasn't allowed in Tortall at that time. The law was in the process of being passed, but it would have taken another three years or so, and by then, she would have been too old to become a knight. So her father had arranged for her to go to the Copper Isles, where they did have a law allowing Lady Knights. But the law was so old, that no one had remembered that it existed until she came along.

Lyrin's opponent growled, and lunged at her. He wanted her dead, even if he died in the process, he wanted her dead.

"Lyrin!" Taal, her best friend, yelled.

Lyrin spun around, and saw Taal cornered against a cliff edge, and he was about to fall off. With a war cry, she ran at his opponents. They were Yamani raiders. She ran her sword through a young man's neck, and turned to face the man to his left. He lunged, and she parried, and then kicked him hard in the leg. He fell down, and Taal stabbed him in the chest. Then together, they turned to face the remaining in man. Taal's throwing knife flew through the air and landed in his chest. The man's face turned to one of horror, and he clutched his chest. In on last effort to kill Taal, he shot his foot out. But he didn't hit Taal. His foot caught Lyrin's shin, and sent her tumbling backwards. She stumbled, and fell off the edge of the cliff. She fell down, and down, and down. Her scream echoed through the valley, and then it suddenly stopped.

She hit the ground with a thud.

She was dead.

***

Lord Wyldon of Cavall stared in horror at the man standing in front of him.

"Could you repeat that again please?" He asked faintly.

The man looked sympathetically at him. "I'm sorry my Lord. But Lady Knight Lyrin of Cavall died in battle a moon ago."

"H-how?" Wyldon asked. Lyrin was one of the best knights he knew, and he had trained a lot of them.

"She saved her friend from three Yamani raiders that had come across with a couple of hundred others. The last man kicked her over a cliff edge before he died." The man said. He hated his job. He ran around the Copper Isles, telling families that their sons had been killed. This was an unusual job though, he had never ventured out of the Copper Isles to bring bad news, and never to tell a family that their daughter had died in battle.

Wyldon swallowed, and closed his eyes. "Thank-you. You may leave."

The man left the training masters study at the palace, and travelled to the nearest port where he caught a boat to the Isles.

In his office, Wyldon sat staring at his wall. He couldn't believe it. His daughter had been killed. Why had he ever allowed her to become a knight? He had known that she would die sometime, but he hadn't expected it to be so soon. Why? Why him? Why Lyrin?

Breathing deeply, Wyldon started to write a letter to his wife and remaining daughters. They needed to know what happened, and he couldn't leave at the moment. The Big Tests were coming up for some of his pages, and he needed to see how they did.

***

Eight Years Later…

Lord Wyldon of Cavall was a cold hard man now. His daughter's death had changed him. Only those that needed to know knew that Lyrin had died in battle, the rest thought that she was still alive, living on her parent's fief. Wyldon didn't want the attention that came with a death in battle; he just needed to begin to get on with his life.

He stared at the girl across the desk from him. It was Keladry of Mindelan, a female page. She had mousy brown hair, and hazel eyes. Her face was blank, and showed no emotions. She looked just like the female version of the man he imagined that had killed his daughter. For all he knew, she could have known him. He could have been a great warrior in the Islands. She could have looked up to him.

Inwardly, he vowed that he would find someway to make this girl leave. Not because he didn't want her training. He didn't want another family suffering the way he had. No one deserved to suffer like that.

Later, he stood in front of a collection of pages with Keladry at his side. She needed a sponsor, and the only person that had volunteered was Joren of Stonemountain.

He might not have seen Joren's bad side, but he could sense it. He gave him a firm no for an answer. Wyldon didn't really want Keladry to have Joren as a sponsor. He might want rid of her, but a year of training would do her good. And then he got another volunteer. Nealan of Queenscove. With no other volunteers, he left Keladry to the tender mercies of Page Nealan of Queenscove.

Mithros bless her. She would need the god's hands on her to survive a year with Nealan! As long as his impertinent tongue didn't rub off on her.

A year later…

Wyldon sat in his study, he didn't know what to do. Keladry had proved herself to be better than most of the boys, she deserved to stay. But he didn't want her to stay. She would only get killed in the end; he couldn't bear to see another family suffer the way he did. And every year she trained, she was nearer to that. But she really did deserve to stay, and he didn't want to be really unfair to her, he thought of her as the daughter that he lost to the Yamani raiders exactly nine years yesterday. Sighing, he made his decision, she could stay. But he hoped to Mithros that he hadn't made a mistake.

Sixteen years later…

Wyldon watched the ensuing battle from the rampant of New Hope. He had been badly injured only four days ago, and Duke Nealan of Queenscove had forbidden him from going into battle for at least another month.

He watched proudly as Keladry twisted and turned, he sword only a blur in the middle of the fierce action. She had done well. She made him proud to have taught her. Next to her in battle was his old squire, Owen of Jesslaw. The two of them worked perfectly together. They protected each other's backs, and managed to kill as many of the Scanran enemy at the same time.

Suddenly, Owen fell to the ground, an arrow in his chest. Wyldon could see the emotions on Keladry's face changing rapidly, surprise to shock to realisation to anger and to a blank Yamani face. Her sword flew around, and slit the throat of the nearest man to her. She shouted something in the language of the Yamani's, and kicked out at her attackers. She swooped down and pulled Owen's sword out of his hand, and sheathed in her sheath. Then, in a frenzy, she killed the remaining Scanran's.

Keladry sat in Lord Wyldon's office, Owen's sword on her lap. Lord Wyldon sat in silence, studying her carefully.

Her Yamani mask had gone now, and pain showed on her face. Tears pricked in the corners of her eyes, and it was then that Wyldon realised just how many people she had lost. Her brother Inness, her fiancé Domitan of Masbolle, who was the Commander of the King's Own when he died. Lord Sir Raoul of Goldenlake and Malorie's Peak, her old Knight Master, friend and mentor, the refugees that died at the hands of Blayce. They were the one's who had died. Then there was Tobe, he had left to study with Daine. Cleon had married Emerlian, and was stationed in Port Caynn. Her parents had returned to the Yamani Islands, and she hadn't seen them in many years.

This made Wyldon stop to think. Maybe she would have been better off dead; she wouldn't have had to have gone through the pain she was going through now.

There was a knock on his study door, and Neal walked in. He took a look at Kel, and sympathy filled his eyes, he helped her stand, and led her out of the study.

Wyldon tilted his head on one side; then again, maybe she would be fine. She had what remained of her circle of friends, and Neal would always be there to help her. He would make sure he was there.

Wyldon glanced at the painting on his desk of Lyrin on her eighteenth birthday, just after she had taken her ordeal. Gently, he removed the painting from its frame. Behind it was a delicate necklace. It was Lyrin's. Suddenly Wyldon knew what he had to do.

Gripping the necklace, he walked out of his study, and towards Kel's room. She would appreciate it. He needed to get over Lyrin's death. It had taken over his life; this was a small step towards repairing his life. Maybe it would help Kel too. 

A/N: Well, that was a bit strange, wasn't it? Oh well. Please be nice and review.

PsychoLioness13


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